An Explanation
by BattleJoy W
Summary: Inspired by one of Kubo Tite's seemingly random manga color pages. No strong pairings. Mild PostSoul Society Spoilers.


Title: **An Explanation**

Rating: Parent Guidance softly recommended. Mid teen level onwards would probably be appropriate.

Disclaimer: The author is not Kubo Tite. Thus she has never dressed up the characters as if they were in Arabian Nights, or a Chinese action fantasy, or as…

Author Notes/Spoilers: Post Soul Society. For the manga readers, you probably know which amusing color spread this story is talking about. For those who haven't seen it, I'm sorry.

* * *

"More pillows," Yumichika barked orders as he gestured to the hurried club members. "You, there. Can you hang that beach ball, right in the middle?"

"Mr. President," The Vice president of the Handicraft club whispered. He was an excitable young man in Ishida's opinion but still an asset to the club since his crocheting was up to Ishida's strict standards. Not many boys crocheted in the area for some ungodly reason. "Are you sure about this 'art director'?"

"Genuriku High did not beat us because of the actual quality or the fashionable design of their outfits," Ishida frowned as he adjusted his glasses and finished a last minute hemming of the cuff of Renji's pants. It was a bitter defeat that they had worked so hard the previous year at their outfits. The handicraft club had merely had members model their own creations with snapshots. Their rivals had bought a professional photographer and models to make their sub par ensembles look good. This year, Ishida Uryuu, Handicraft Club President, would not make the same mistake and allow amateurish presentation rob the dignity of their painstakingly crafted work.

Of course, saying that he wouldn't make the same mistake didn't mean that they hadn't blow the whole club budget when one of the local shops was having a going out of business sale. Everything was 75 off! So they had to take what they could get, which was Mizuiro, who was in the photography club, and one of the new transfer students as an art director.

"We need give an edge to this shot," Yumichika looked around the theater props they had borrowed, stroking his oddly groomed eyebrow ornaments in contemplation. "No swords. We need to go with something more modern. Ah, guns!"

"Don't worry about it," Ikkaku dropped the box he was carrying on top of the others. "Yumichika's purpose in life revolves around 'style'."

"Just what kind of style," Renji muttered as he watched Yumichika try to deal with an irate Ichigo.

"Oh, come on. Put it on," Yumichika cooed. "I know you'll like it."

"No. End of discussion. I don't care if I'm dressed identical to Renji. I am not wearing a feather boa!" Ichigo snapped, eying the mass of feathers in the man's hands with more revulsion than he would hold for any real snake.

Ishida shot Ichigo a poisoned glance. He had already stated that those shirts were not identical because Abarai's was slightly more of a biased cut and it had extra piping around the collar. Seriously, no one cared about details!

Ishida would like nothing better but snap and toss Kurosaki and his kind out. He hated having to involve the shinigami in anything in his life but such were the sacrifices to the Goddess of Fashion. "Abarai-san, could you please go get the girls," Ishida asked. "We need to see do a final pinning check."

Renji nodded, glad to leave the room. Best to stay way from Yumichika when he was being 'creative'. He glanced around, "Where did they go?"

Hitsugaya adjusted the lamp he was standing besides. For the life of him he still wasn't sure why they were bothering with this stupid project. "They're over in the bathroom getting the finishing touches on their makeup by Matsumoto."

* * *

"Now girls. Think: Sultry, Sensual, Sexy," Masumoto punctuated her statement with a brief display of enticing poses. It was a pity that the club didn't have enough time to alter some clothes for her particular proportions. "Orihime-honey, that's constipated."

Inoue opened her eyes and stopped her semi-internal chant of "Be a good model! Be a good model! For Ishida-san! For the Handicraft club! For the School! For Great Justice!" Orihime offered a nervous laugh as she tried to keep the hem of the short oriental dress down. "Oops? Guess I really don't know how to be sexy."

Matsumoto glanced over to Tatsuki, who just shrugged. Orihime was Orihime, after all.

"Just relax. I'm sure you'll do fine." Matsumoto turned her attention to the other model for the day. Rukia was normally such a stately, poised, young lady so maybe it would be easier to coach her. "Now, Rukia," Matsumoto was bemused at contorted grimace on the young Kuchiki's features. "That's not sexy. That's cross-eyed."

"These underwear," Rukia growled, trying her best to pick a wedgie with fake fingernails, "Are ridding up... oddly."

Tatsuki snorted. "First time wearing a thong?"

"Oh just take 'em off. It's not like anyone will notice." Masumoto rolled her eyes. It was then that they heard a thud from outside in the hallway.

* * *

When Renji came to, he was greeted by the blurry concerned face of a dark-haired angel. "Rukia?" he murmured.

"No, Abarai-san." Mizuiro politely smiled. "Would you like some water?"

"What happened?" Renji asked as he notice that he was stripped of the shirt he wearing earlier and he was lying down on the floor. Last thing, he remembered he was outside the girls' bathroom, about to knock when he heard some sort of conversation. Unfortunately, that train of thought was derailed as he felt the sharp pain of someone kicking him in the side.

"To think, you fainting from a little nose bleed," Ikkaku sneered before grudgingly helping Renji off the floor. "Are they all such pussies in the 6th division?"

"It won't come out! It won't come out!" The vice president of the Handicrafts club wailed as a couple other club members scrubbed furiously. "We're all out of club soda!"

"He can't be topless. That was already done with the track suits shot. The judges will think you are pan-der-riiing." Yumichika's voice dipped and warbled as he gestured vaguely.

Ishida was left with a command decision. That piping had taken half an afternoon of work. Taking off his glasses, he paused to rub the bridge of his nose. Sacrifices had to be made. "We'll just have to go with the spare jacket."

"There," Ichigo folded his arms and stomped over to his position on the sea of fluffy comforters. "He's different, so we can drop the idea about the stupid headband. Now let's get this thing, friggin' over with!"

Still, something was missing in the opinion of the Art Director, Ayasegawa Yumichika. An odd tight lipped expression formed on his face as he tried to force an ugly frown from his features. It was obvious that his keen eye knew something was just missing from the shot.

"I've got it," Yumichika crowed. "Gloves."

So after a very heated argument, the four models, including a newly revived Renji, took up their positions on the photo shoot.

"Everyone, smile!" Mizuiro asked as his looked through the camera. "Um, Ichigo?"

"Geez, smile already so we can go home," Rukia was somehow able to manage to growl around her toothy grin as her voice lifted in a sweet melody. Then again she had a suction cup gun to shoot Ichigo, so she had some small reason to sparkle.

"I'm in opera gloves," was Ichigo's only retort that he snarled as he rubbed the back of his head. That girl had good aim with that gun.

Yumichika pursed his lips in concentration. The smiling wasn't working anyway now that he thought about it. He needed 'edgy'. "Okay, everyone. Look as pissed off as Ichigo. There! Perfect!"

The Handicraft Vice President watched the flash of camera and their art director call out directions. "Um, Mr. President. I'm not too sure about this shoot. They kind of look like," He paused as he tried to think up a diplomatic phrasing but could only manage, "Prostitutes and their body guards. Especially Kurosaki-san."

Anyone who was watching could see which category Ichigo fit into.

Ishida just smiled. That trophy was going to look good on the mantle.

* * *

The End

If you liked my story, please, remember to review. And floss. People don't floss as much as they should.


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